before the end
by sitvha
Summary: He had to try. He had to at least try to do the right thing.


_note:_ _I wanted to see Nathan working up the courage to fight against Jefferson and my grahamscott ass wanted Warren to inspire him even more than Nathan already inspired himself by just wanting to do something right for once. So that's what I tried to do at least._

* * *

 _Max, it's... it's Nathan._

He should have known.

 _I just wanted to say... I'm sorry._

He should have understood.

 _I didn't want to hurt Kate or Rachel, or... didn't want to hurt anybody_.

God, why did he do any of this?

 _Everybody... used me_.

He could only do one thing now.

 _Mr. Jefferson... is coming for me now_.

He wished he didn't deserve the worst.

 _All this shit will be over soon_.

But maybe he did.

 _Watch out, Max... He wants to hurt you next_.

He never did anything right.

 _Sorry_.

He could try this once though.

Nathan limped out of his dorm building, clutching his torso while grabbing onto the stair railing, and looked at the two moons in the night sky. If this was any other night in any other context, maybe he would have cared, but he only had one thing on his mind.

He had been on the floor of the boys' hallway for a while before he finally sat up. He couldn't cry anymore. There was nothing left of him. There was barely anything there in the first place, and whatever he gave to Jefferson was the last of it. He didn't know who he was anymore. He gave himself to a man who took advantage of him and manipulated him and _dammit_ he just wanted someone to believe in him. That's all he fucking wanted but he never got that, he would never get that and he didn't know what else he was expecting. He was nothing to anyone, and he did awful things, the worst things, just to please a stranger who claimed to care. How could he have trusted this man with his last pieces? Jefferson ruined him. He ruined himself. _God_ , how could he have done this?

After he had crawled into his room, he draped himself over his bed and closed his eyes, wanting to escape for one second, just one fucking second before he was reminded of his reality. This attempt was shattered almost instantly when he received a call from the phone number he'd grown to become so terrified of, but could now only feel nothing.

"I'll finally be with my true muse tonight." _Sick fuck_.

"I have it all planned out." _I hate you_.

"You've been a big help to me, Nathan." _You were supposed to be too_.

"But I think our time together is over. Meet me in three hours. You know where." _I want to burn it down with you in it_.

He had glanced at Max's selfie on his wall before leaving his room. He remembered when Victoria jokingly taped it there, saying he needed something to brighten up the place, and what could be better than a picture of the "selfie ho of Blackwell". He could never bring himself to take it down.

And now he was outside on the stairs of his dorm, staring at the sky, thinking only about how he could make it right for Max. He hoped she got his message before it was too late, and he hoped he would make it out alive but it didn't matter anymore. He could do this one fucking thing in his life; maybe he wouldn't be as damned if he did something good. He'd find out soon enough.

He jumped slightly when he heard the door slowly open behind him, and he flinched and stumbled down one more step when he saw who it was.

"Um... are... are you ok?"

Nathan stared up to look at Warren with barely masked panic, and then there were resurfaced memories of the pain he felt as Warren's fist connected with his face over and over and over again. What was he doing here? Was he just acting nice to throw him off guard? Did he want to gloat in front of him and finish what he started? But when he looked at Warren more closely, he definitely didn't look as menacing as he did in the hallway. Actually, he looked like a fucking mess. His black eye was one thing, but... there was something else. The post lights and two moons illuminated every crease and line on his pained expression and his eyes were red and puffy like he'd been... crying. Beating someone else up like that must have really fucked him up. He must hate Nathan for making it happen.

Still, though, he imagined that the both of them looked very much the same under those two moons, like miserable reflections of the other. And Nathan was too tired to fight anyone anymore. "Why are you asking me that?" he said quietly, now staring at Warren blankly, voice calm and dead.

"I... because... just... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Nathan."

Nathan couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle hearing those words. Not from him, not from anyone. Those words would never be meant to be said for him, only said by him. Warren never once looked away from Nathan, who was looking back desperately at him like he was a dream. He could see how anxious Warren was by the way he was nervously playing with his fingers that were connected to bruised knuckles. Nathan was surprised to suddenly and fiercely wish he could kiss the bruises away, to make the colors disappear so Warren would be ok again. But he didn't know how well that would work coming from him, the one who painted the purples and reds on him.

Nathan broke their gaze, looking at the ground before closing his eyes and fists tightly. This wasn't right. No matter what Warren did, this wasn't right. _He_ was the one who caused the torment and shame in Warren's eyes. Warren had hurt him and Nathan was so scared, but he was the one who brought that vicious side out of Warren. This kid who was a science nerd and fucking smiled at birds chirping like he was a Disney princess. He was just a kid. A kid who smiled around everyone and everything else but not around Nathan. He never gave him a reason to, he knew that, but... he wished he had. For Nathan's own sake and for everyone else that he hurt, including Warren. Then, maybe, he could have been doing the right thing for a long time and the boy who liked everyone wouldn't hate him.

And here was that boy, apologizing and looking so worried and broken and Nathan didn't know how to put together all of these versions of Warren - the innocent, the violent, the ruined. He would have only been one of them if it wasn't for Nathan. Lots of things wouldn't have happened to people if it wasn't for Nathan.

"Why?" The desperation in his voice and face was growing clearer and he knew it but he couldn't bring himself to care.

When he there was no answer he looked up to see Warren staring at him in shock and confusion. "Please," Nathan asked again, "please just... why would you say that to me?"

"I... I hurt you," he replied, clearly pained but Nathan still didn't understand.

"How can you do that? How can you apologize to someone like me? You don't even know what I've done and you're..." _You're not supposed to be doing this_.

"Listen, Nathan. I don't know what you've done but you still deserve an apology for -"

"You're wrong." Nathan looked up sharply as he cut him off, seeing the hurt in Warren's eyes and, _fuck,_ he _put that there_. "I don't deserve it."

They both looked at each other for several moments that felt like years, Warren looking like he'd seen Nathan for the first time, and Nathan looking like he didn't notice the tears silently falling down his face.

"You're _good_... you shouldn't be saying sorry. It was m-me. My fault... everything..."

Nathan's voice was breaking and his hands were shaking but he couldn't bring himself to look away. He was going to try, he was going to try to face what he did and not let Warren think he had to do this when every bruise on his body and mind was because of Nathan.

Warren wasn't speaking, he just kept staring at him with the same shocked expression, which only intensified as Nathan took a step up closer to him, slowly reaching for, then grabbing, the sleeve of his long-sleeve shirt. "I'm sorry... I'm so goddamn sorry, Warren."

He broke on Warren's name, gripping his sleeve tighter and bending his head down to hide his sobs. Warren didn't move, but Nathan was too far gone and was starting to hyperventilate, so he needed to hold on to something. He needed to grab something real, and Warren was the only reality he could physically touch. When Warren finally moved, he did so by gently placing his hand on Nathan's back, rubbing small and hesitant circles. Nathan didn't care if this sympathy was fake or sincere ( _it_ had _to be sincere_ ) all he knew was that he craved it and Warren wasn't Jefferson or his father or someone with an ulterior motive. He was just Warren. _Please, let him be just Warren; he can't be anything else_.

Warren brought himself down one more step so they were level with each other, moving even closer to Nathan so his abdomen would make contact with the top of Nathan's head. He fell to his knees and lifted his other arm to grab Warren's other sleeve, accidentally pulling the hand that was rubbing the soothing circles on his back and he almost whimpered at the loss of comfort, but Warren quickly moved his hand to Nathan's hair instead. He could only cry harder. He didn't deserve whatever this was, but if he was going to die, he was going to let his reality do whatever it wanted as long as he got to pretend that Warren actually cared.

They stayed like that, Warren softly running his fingers through his hair as Nathan's cries started to quiet down, until Warren finally spoke. "Nathan... what happened to you?"

The question brought Nathan back and he recoiled from Warren like he'd been stung, and Warren's face looked like it had been too. He wasn't supposed to do this, he couldn't ruin Warren even more than he already did, and he was supposed to get to Jefferson before he got to Max. He had to go, right now, he had to stop that fucker, he had to die for a chance at that, he had to do the right -

"Woah woah, Nathan! Look at me!"

All of a sudden, he felt hands grip his shoulders and shake him slightly, making him look up at Warren and realize that he was breathing too fast and his hands were pulling at his hair.

"Breathe, Nathan, come on. In, out, in out..."

He looked only at Warren's mouth to match his breathing. He felt like he was suffocating and it took everything for him to control himself, but he was eventually able to breathe with Warren, relaxing enough to let go of the grip on his hair and bring his arms back down to his sides.

Then Warren smiled at him.

And Nathan's breath was knocked out of him again, staring in awe at what he thought would never happen to him.

He didn't know... he didn't know that was what it felt like, to get one of his smiles. He smiled with his whole face, his eyes lit up with relief and he could see his teeth and the small wrinkles around the corners of his lips and the crinkles around his eyes and... it felt surreal. Nathan thought that Warren shouldn't give them away as freely as he did, because people would take advantage of them, he knew people did because people always expected them. He was the only thing Warren didn't give a smile to, and he got one... he finally got one. He got to take it with him. He earned it; somehow he fucking earned it even though he hurt people and did terrible things. But Warren thought he earned it. He never gave Warren a reason to smile at him, but Warren's reason to finally give him one was just because Nathan breathed.

Maybe... maybe he didn't ruin everything... not if he could do this...

"I have to go," Nathan said, finally finding his voice and cursing himself for causing Warren's smile to transform into a frown.

"What? You can't be serious, dude. Not after all of that."

"I have to... it's the only thing I can do to make it right." He hoped he could make it right.

"Well... then... I'm coming with you!"

Nathan could only look at him. How could this boy keep surprising him and giving him things when he had no idea what he had done? He would never take his apology, Warren should never have even offered it, but Nathan was selfish enough to take his sympathy and his smile, because it felt real. Maybe he ruined Warren and he didn't deserve to take any of it, but maybe he could have... in another life. This one probably wouldn't last long enough for him to know.

"You're not coming, Warren. You'll get hurt and I... I can't let anyone else get hurt because of me."

"But... something bad is going to happen..."

"Yes, that's why you're not coming." He placed his hand on Warren's arm and gave him a gentle squeeze, hesitantly looking into his eyes. "I... thank you. For everything. That isn't enough, but that's all I have. I... I wish..."

"You wish what? I'm... I'm worried. You can't just leave me with that, Prescott."

Nathan took a deep breath, looking at him sadly as he placed his other hand on Warren's other shoulder. He was right, he couldn't just leave him hanging, not after everything Warren just gave him. "I wish I could give you more than that." Something other than bruises and tainted memories. He could have eventually given Warren his best smile too.

And then Nathan walked away from him, thanking God or whoever was out there that he got to have this one last thing. At least he knew that he maybe could have gotten a second chance if someone like Warren could care about him for even a minute. It made walking to his death a little bit easier.


End file.
